#like i know it's been 10 years. but still

[hedgehog-moss]

The cherry tree I planted in front of the greenhouse blossomed for the first time this spring! A round of applause!

The wind always blows from the valley so I planted this tree strategically so that in spring a delicious smell would be delivered in my living-room through the windows, and around the outdoor table where I work, and it worked :) I estimate that it improved my quality of life by 11%. A light spring breeze carrying a cherry blossom smell is the kind of thing that stops me in my tracks ten times a day and makes me close my eyes and take a deep breath and think oh, life is good.

More tree updates: I talked in this post from 2021, then this one from 2022, about how I hoped to plant a 'fruit tree path' in the woods behind my house—this project is still ongoing and, well, hasn't borne fruit yet, but has finally blossomed. My Fruit Alley now boasts 10 trees, and looks like—what it is, a small opening in the woods that I have to deploy heroic and sustained efforts to keep open, because the woods try to reclaim it year after year, patiently, like a slow green tide.

The white thing in the middle is one of the tarps I've been using to smother brambles, I move them every few weeks and it works pretty well. I also use cardboard, but in the spring it's hard to keep up with the sheer rate of growth everywhere. Of course the main enemy is the army of broom that you can see in the distance, all yellow and cheerful-looking at the moment. I mostly fight them in the winter, every year I manage to push them back a few metres...

Here's a photo where you can better see some of the trees :

In total I have planted 2 apple trees, 1 quince tree, 1 mirabelle plum, 3 red plums, 1 nectarine tree, 3 cherry trees. I'm really glad that all of them survived, as I was a bit worried about damage from deer or boars. I did lose 2 chestnut trees that were destroyed so savagely I have to assume it's wild boars, but I had planted them much farther away in the woods and I won't make this mistake again. I now have two new baby chestnuts and I planted them near the greenhouse (downhill):

I think I'd never seen nectarine flowers before, they look exotic! I also discovered this year what quince flowers look like:

The only tree that didn't bloom was the smallest apple tree, and honestly that's her fault because for some reason she decided to make tender new green leaves in the middle of winter, so she pretty much exhausted herself for nothing. And you can't blame climate change and seasons being weird for this, because it was a cold and snowy week and no other nearby fruit trees were making any leaves. The confused apple tree is a New Zealand cultivar, so I suppose you could argue she thinks she's still in New Zealand, except she's never been to New Zealand in her life, she was born and raised in France, she doesn't know New Zealand exists. The only possible explanation is, I suppose, a deep-rooted yearning for their ancestral homeland among New Zealand apple trees.

I was a bit concerned when this tree then failed to produce any leaves in the spring, I worried she might be hopelessly hemispherically-challenged, but then I went back to check two weeks later and she was finally green! In a seasonally-appropriate way!

Other trees I've planted, not in the fruit tree path: a persimmon, but it died very quickly :( I will try again; a goji berry shrub, which has been here for two years and seems to be doing well, but so far no sign of berries; and in front of my house, an amelanchier (un arbre dont ma mère n'arrive jamais à se rappeler le nom et qu'elle persiste à appeler "le mélenchon"):

Finally, my last piece of important tree-related news is that I had the hazel tree near my house removed this winter:

I asked the guy who was working on the road nearby with an excavator digging a drainage trench if he could do it, and it took all of 10 minutes, like picking a flower, it was impressive!

And the reason I wanted to remove it is that there are hundreds of hazel trees in my woods and I wanted something different in this spot by the house. Unfortunately for this deserving hazel, it just wasn't special enough.

So I planted a tiny ginkgo :) And now I just have to be extremely patient as I wait for everyone to grow.

[lilith-vodkaaunt-of-demons]

I literally just listened to Oz Media read a reddit post about a guy who is like, 2 years into a Bachelor's in Nutrition who has come to the horrifying realization that, because of using ChatGPT to do all his coursework, he is 2 years into a Bachelor's in Nutrition and knows absolutely nothing about Nutrition.

And now that he's gotten to the point in the Degree where labs are starting, he's now well and truly fucked because ChatGPT can't do labs for him and he knows so little about this thing he's been going to school for 2 years for that he can't wing it.

And he can't come forward about it to his School Admin, because that level of Academic Dishonesty will definitiely bar him from continuing to attend his current school, and will likely make it so he can't attend any other school either.

So now he's stuck half way through a degree he knows nothing about, likely still owes student loan debt, and he can't come clean because he'll be barred from higher education.

I have a sinking feeling we'll see a lot more of this as using ChatGPT becomes more ubiquitous. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if in the next 5 to 10 years, there's an entire demographic of people with degrees they can't (and/or shouldn't) use because they don't actually know anything about their field.

"i don't care if they make their whole way though uni with chatgpt" i think you guys are so internetpilled that you have forgotten there are actual jobs out there that require people to know what they are doing in any way possible or else people die

[screamlet]

fic: road to nowhere (8x18 spec)

buck and tommy trapped under some concrete and dreaming of other places. 1.2k.

---

Tommy came to rescue them, Buck and Ravi, about an hour ago. That's about as long as Tommy and Buck have been trapped under a concrete slab that collapsed on Ravi's way out.

"Help is on the way," Ravi called through the gaps letting them breathe.

"Are they actually gonna be any help, though," Buck wonders, and realizes he said it out loud.

"I can't believe you'd doubt them over a little building collapse," Tommy says, wheezing more than Buck likes to hear. "That's your team, they've got your back."

Buck's smiling to himself and, for some reason, that catches Tommy's attention.

"Don't they?"

"Everyone deals with grief differently," Buck says.

There's a beat, then Tommy says, "Fuck them. Whatever they did. Or haven't done."

Buck shakes his head. "It's fine, I'm just." And he doesn't have a way to end that sentence. "Ignore me, okay? I'm—I'm being a snitch."

"A snitch? What are you, 12?" Buck smiles to himself again, and Tommy grumbles. "Never thought I'd see the day when I hated to see you smile."

Buck glances at him. "You hate it?"

Tommy's being too honest for how not-hurt he claims to be. "Those smiles don't reach your eyes." He didn't think Tommy would notice. "What are you thinking about? What are you gonna do when you get out of here?"

"We." Buck sends him the most threatening look he can manage.

Tommy acquiesces. "When we get out of here," he repeats.

"I'm thinking of going on a road trip, actually," Buck says. "Getting out of LA for a while. I've got the PTO for it and even if I don't—"

"You'd leave? The 118?"

"I need some space," Buck says slowly. "And Eddie got a job offer in El Paso, but he's thinking of not taking it and moving back, so I'd have to give up the house."

"Uh, no you wouldn't."

Buck makes a face. "Tommy, I'm not gonna let Chris be homeless."

"Do you think firefighter and former Army medic Eddie Diaz, a tax-paying adult with a child, is incapable of fucking apartment hunting?"

"Look, it just makes sense," Buck says.

"It doesn't, but keep talking." Tommy stifles a wince. "The rage will keep me from going into the light."

"It's all lining up, Tommy, honestly," Buck says. "They can take the place off my hands and I can do what I did when I dropped out of college: get in my Jeep and go see the country again."

"What do you mean again?"

Buck smiles at him; it looks like Tommy still hates it. "I got kicked out of college, then out of community college, then Maddie gave me some cash and her Jeep and I ran away from home. Well, I was like, 21, I don't think you can run away from home at that age."

"I don't think there's a statute of limitations on running away from home," Tommy says dryly. "As long as you have a home. Which you do."

Buck looks away, bites the inside of his lower lip. "I did. I don't know if it made it out of the lab, though. I think Bobby took it with him."

Buck whips his head around when Tommy doesn't respond. He's awake, though, but staring at Buck with his lips in a fine, frustrated line. "If losing Bobby means losing your home—losing them—then I don't think you really had it after all."

"Don't say that," Buck says softly. Tommy looks away. Agree to disagree.

"I haven't seen the Milky Way in like, 10 years," Buck says. "I should fix that."

"You think it's changed much?"

"I'm sure it has, even if we can't see the changes. Earth is moving, our solar system is moving, space is moving—"

"Is it?"

"Well, it's expanding, as far as we know," Buck says. "Maybe it doesn't look any different but—but I'm different. So."

Tommy's quiet, then says, "It's been 20 for me. Years. Since I've seen the Milky Way. I'm outdoorsy, but I don't get out to those really remote areas. Haven't for a while."

"It sounds like a good idea, right?"

"It does." Tommy clears his throat, shifts as much as he can under the rubble. "You're going alone, huh?"

"Yeah," Buck says, then pauses so he can look at Tommy. "I—I was planning on it."

Now Tommy smiles, a small thing that lights up the darkness in Buck. "No room for a co-pilot? Someone with awesome taste in music who can help out with the driving sometimes? If—" Tommy motions to the slab. "Provided I've still got a body and everything."

Buck feels sharp pinpricks behind his eyes, at the edges, emotion swelling in his throat. "I keep thinking: this isn't it. This—is this what I wanted? I'd have a home, but I could never leave again?"

"From a homeowner's perspective," Tommy says, always making him laugh. "It's not much of a home if it crumbles the moment you step outside. You can't be the only thing holding it together." He hesitates. "Bobby couldn't be the only thing holding it together."

"Yeah," Buck agrees. "And you?"

"What about me?"

"What are you running from?" Buck knows his smile is too mean, too slick. "If not me, I mean."

Tommy makes a little ha fucking ha face at him, nose crinkling because he can't help being amused. "I wouldn't be running. I'd be coming with you."

"Oh."

"If you wanted the company," Tommy repeats. "Gas money, too. Gas gets expensive."

"Why now?" Buck looks down at his hands. "What's changed? Besides I said something really shitty to you and—and I didn't get to apologize."

"I know you didn't mean it," Tommy says. "And I didn't mean to leave."

"So you want to test out your staying power by trapping yourself in a Jeep with me?"

"Yes, Evan, that's exactly it. You saw right through me."

"Around you," Buck says. "I've gotta shift a little to see past the slab that's gonna suffocate us."

"So it's all hypothetical anyway," Tommy replies.

Buck wonders if Ravi's eavesdropping or if maybe they've been left to die, buried alive. Maybe they're not worth the effort. That sucks; Buck would think Tommy was worth the effort, at least. He has a pilot's license and the people at Harbor probably like him a lot more than the 118 likes Buck right now. In any case: it's quiet and the glimmer of a road trip, taking a breath outside the city limits, feels like it's slipping away.

"Think we're running out of oxygen," Buck comments. "I'm kinda losing the will to live? Is that science? Less oxygen, more hopelessness?"

"Evan," Tommy sighs. "We're gonna get out of here, and then we're gonna get out of here."

Buck takes the hand Tommy reaches out. He's not sure either of them believe that, or each other, or that they'll go anywhere together or apart, or that things will get better but—but for now they can keep each other awake, thinking of other ways and places to be.

[jewish-vents]

columbia university’s been in the news again lately and so it’s making the rounds on jumblr through blogs like @thestudentempanada bc there was another big protest last week (well last week at time of writing on 5/13/25). i’m a proudly jewish but more quietly zionist student at columbia. here’s what it’s been like for the past year and a half:

- not even a week after 10/7, the massive protests began.

- around that time, it came out that ilhan omar’s daughter, a student at the time, had made disgusting comments about the rapes of jewish women and girls. mind you this happened in a classroom setting.

- more than once, i woke up to news of jewish and israeli students being physically assaulted. including a good friend of mine who was punched in the face for wearing a shirt with an israeli flag on it.

- i became increasingly aware that the only reason i was welcomed into the campus arts community is because i was quiet about my zionism.

- often last year, i couldn’t cross the street to get to classes and club meetings because of the huge mobs.

- once when i was walking across campus alone at night, i found antisemitic propaganda taped to the library door including an image of a skunk with an israeli flag design on it and a man with devil horns (i don’t remember if he was a university trustee or a us government official) characterized as an “imperialist” and “zionist”. by the next day, these posters were everywhere.

- when the encampment went up last year, it became impossible to sleep in campus dorms. i slept at a friend’s off-campus dorm at a partner institution.

- one of my professors last spring appeared in at least one al jazeera video filmed at the encampment.

- members of a small club i was a part of insisted on putting out public statements supporting the students in the encampment. i was too afraid to speak out against it but detested that they were purporting to speak for me. the one person i felt was potentially safe to confide in at the time later wrote something comparing the war in gaza to the holocaust.

- my entire family came out to pick me up from campus. this meant i had to walk through an antisemitic hate mob with my grandparents. that night i also stopped by a counterprotest to say hi to my friends - later that night a picture was posted where an anti israel protestor threatened that exact counterprotest with a sign that said “al-qassam’s next targets.” i know exactly who they wanted dead. those people are my personal friends. the next morning, columbia university apartheid divest (cuad) made a post vaguely referencing the sign, claiming that the protestor was unassociated with them and that anyone who wanted to know what cuad really stood for should read their community guidelines. many people in my social circle reposted cuad’s statement.

- i wasn’t on campus during the hamilton hall occupation but i know it was Bad. janitors were held against their will. it was seriously violent.

- my friend got screamed at as she was walking by a protest while wearing a magen david, by someone who she had up until then considered a friendly acquaintance.

- in the fall, things largely quieted down… until 10/7/2024. there was a big anti israel protest and a smaller but very loud pro israel protest. thankfully from what i saw barricades separated the two and there were no altercations. i spent most of the day in hillel. all the freshmen were saying how horrible it was. to me, it felt… well, still bad, but scale-wise it barely registered.

- on the last day of fall classes, there was another massive protest. thankfully i was on a different part of campus while it was going on, but my friend wasn’t so lucky. she was in a class in a building that was surrounded by protestors. they banged on the windows to the point where professors were afraid the windows would break.

- in the spring, things were quiet for a month until the suspension of 2 protestors was announced. pro hamas students responded by taking over another building. thankfully they were cleared out by nighttime, but it was terrifying even as an indirect witness through social media (i was on a different part of campus). i had an anxiety attack that night and couldn’t sleep.

- when mahmoud khalil got arrested, protests began at more regular intervals. these were more “normal,” meaning they were smaller and held in an outdoor location where protests are allowed. but i had a midday class very close to the location of these protests and could hear them every time. it became borderline impossible to focus on my academic work whenever there was a protest outside.

- about 2-3 weeks after they took over the first building, pro hamas students took over ANOTHER building. they made a muppet like puppet of an affiliate school’s (barnard’s) president and HANGED IT. there was a bomb threat called in. many students refused to clear out, believing it to be called in by the administration in an attempt to force them to leave and involve the police. this absolutely baseless conspiracy theory is STILL widely believed by the student body.

- things somewhat quieted down after this, though there were still some “free mahmoud” protests. but i still had plenty of uncomfortable experiences, notably one afternoon when i was trying to study but at the next table over two girls were talking about their experience going to the encampments last year the same way you might talk about a normal club. conversation topics included: lamenting that they didn’t get to meet the progressive icons who visited the encampment and speculating about whether or not people hooked up there. they were so self-absorbed and oblivious that it was genuinely shocking.

- last week, students decided that the study period for finals was the ideal time to take over the main campus library. they committed many acts of vandalism, screamed and shouted and chanted, and actively provoked altercations with campus safety officers and nypd.

i feel so disillusioned and trapped. there are reasons i won’t get into that i genuinely don’t want to leave - i had the opportunity to and turned it down - but i am so so full of resentment towards my fellow students and the mostly ineffectual administration. this is what america’s top universities have become - they’re filled with entitled, antisemitic, self-righteous, self-absorbed “students” who don’t give a damn about their own education or anyone else’s, and professors who are even worse.

.

[mediumgayitalian]

When Lee and Michael pull him from Chiron's exceptionally dry Ancient Greek lessons, Will is excited. When they drag him down, ducking, behind the stables, as other campers walk by, he is intrigued. When they guide him all the way back to their cabin, sit him on his bed, and then drag two stools to sit across from him, silently, he is still excited.

A little nervous, now.

But excited.

"Will," Michael says, solemn. He presses his fist to his mouth, eyes carefully blank. "Will, you are almost ten years old, now."

Will bounces on his mattress, grinning. "Yeah! I'm nine and fifty-six seventy-thirds." He peers at his brothers hopefully, trying to lessen his fidgeting and appear Regal and Adult. "Am I getting my Dad present early?"

Gods, he hopes so. He has been counting down the days -- every tenth birthday, for every kid, Camp-bound or not, Apollo sends them a gift of gold jewelry, smelted in the heat of the Sun by Holy Hephaestus, jewels handcrafted by the finest artisans on Olympus, blessed by yours truly. Will has been watching in seething jealousy as Michael's signet ring glints every time he pulls back his bow, as Cass' hoops swing when she walks. He hopes the gift is earrings -- he finally convinced Michael to pierce his lobes a couple months ago, and he's tired of the ugly studs. Beckendorf made him promise to let him poke around at whatever Will gets, and Will has been itching to show him.

And to get the jewelry, obviously. That's priority number one.

Lee shakes his head slowly. "No. You will get your milestone when you get it." He exchanges a long, fearful look with Michael. Will picks at last summer's clay bead, with the trident on it. "Speaking of milestones…"

Michael makes a sudden, choked noise, covering his face with his hands and curling forward. Will startles. Lee sighs, looking down for a moment as well. When he looks up again, he meets Will's wide eyes with his teary ones, and places a supportive hand on Michael's back.

"Will…" he looks out to the open window, shaking his head slightly. When he looks back, his face is creased in apology, and his eyes are ringed with pity. Will feels his heart drop. "Have you chosen someone, yet?"

"Chosen?" Will straightens, fists twisting in his shorts. "Chosen someone for what?" Michael makes another strangled wailing noise. Will's breath hitches, and his ears white out. "Lee, tell me! Tell me now!"

"We are a Greek camp," Lee says, finally. "An ancient Greek camp. With ancient Greek customs, kiddo."

He says it softly, apologetically. Like the time a seagull swooped down and stole Will's ice cream, right from his hands, on the beach last week. Will recognizes the hopeless tone of his voice and his heart drops.

"How much did they tell you about…our customs?"

"I didn't listen to the admissions video!" Will confesses, panicked. "I'm sorry! It was so boring! There were a bajillion music numbers and they were all kind of bad no offense and the screen made my eyes hurt and I missed my mom and --"

"Will," Michael says, voice shaking. He meets Will's eyes and Will is horrified to see they are wet.

He has never seen Michael cry before -- not even once.

"It's okay, Will. Some people don't know."

"Tell me," Will begs. "Am I being sacrificed?"

To his great relief, both his brothers laugh, waving dismissive hands as they chuckle. Will sags into his pillows.

"Oh, no, gods no. That would be barbaric." Lee wipes a tear from his eyes. "C'mon, Will, we're a little more civilized than that." He smiles encouragingly. Will smiles, hesitantly, back. "You're getting married."

It takes a long enough moment for the sound to travel and the word to register that Will is sure his hearing aids have gone wonky. He taps them, as though it will do anything, and tilts his head.

"I didn't hear you right. What did you say?"

"Married," Michael repeats. "By age 10, like all people had to do back then." He and Lee exchange another weighted look. "That, or you have to marry Mr. D." He rushes to assure at Will's panicked shriek; "Only if you don't choose someone in time. You have until you turn ten, so don't worry. I'm sure you'll find someone in time. You'll have most of the summer, anyway."

There is a moment where Lee and Michael murmur to each other, nodding. "Yeah," Lee says, mostly to himself. "You'll be fine." To which Michael responds: "Of course, of course. I mean, we did it."

Will sits there, frozen.

"I can't get married!" he cries, coming back to himself. He begins to hyperventilate. "I'm -- nine! I'm a kid!" He looks to his older brothers, blue eyes big and watery. "I don't even know how to file my taxes yet!"

Lee and Michael are sympathetic. They move forward, immediately, one on either side of him; Lee slides a squeezing hand around his shoulders, Michael pats him on the leg.

"It'll be fine, squirt," Lee soothes. He gestures across them. "I mean, me and Michael found somebody. It all worked out."

"You're married?" Will chokes out. His breaths come quick and shallow, despite Lee's comforting hand. "Michael is married?!"

"Watch it, twerp," Michael warns, at the same time as Lee says: "It was a challenge and a half, but yeah, Michael is married."

Will glances quickly down. There is no ring on either of their left hands, but they must notice him looking, because Michael snorts, pinching him on the knee.

"We just told you it's an ancient Greek custom, dumbass. Rings were invented later. We just…" He makes an incomprehensible gesture with his ringless hand. "Followed the book, completed the rite, etc, etc. Boom. Matrimony."

Lee nods. He rubs Will's shoulder a final time, encouragingly, before pulling away enough to give him space to breathe.

"You'll find someone, Will. We just thought we'd warn you because it didn't look like you remembered yourself, and we don't want you to have to…well."

Will shudders. Vaguely, in the back of his blurry, blurry memory, he can recall someone saying something in a video somewhere about partners and their importance in Camp. He had not paid attention, and he curses himself for it, now -- he almost had to marry Mr. D. Mr. D. who is rude, who smells like vinegar, who always has something in his teeth, who sleeps all day and drools more than a waterfall, who scares the satyrs on purpose and never even says sorry. Who is mean and gross and the worst ever.

"Thank you," Will says, tearfully. He grips his brothers' hands in his small fists and shakes from his spot between them, almost-life flashing in front of his eyes. If his brothers hadn't warned him, Mr. D. would have made him rub his stinking feet and feed him grapes for all eternity for sure. There wouldn't even be breaks for episodes of Star Trek. He shudders. "Thank you."

His brothers return the half-hug, although Michal sighs about it. He is too short to see the smirks they flash above his head.

"Anytime, twerp."

-- -- --

next

[tehnakki]

OK ridiculous story about Heather and Alec.

So I was a HUGE Heather Alexander fan. I went to multiple ren faires up and down the west coast in high school when I'd hear she was going to be there. I met her multiple times. Was a ridiculous teenage faire groupie that would show up for every single set throughout the day and sigh over how pretty she was. And then she disappeared. I didn't hear of any events of hers for a season so I started trying to figure out what was going on. I think she posted a blog about going on an adventure or something. So I kinda shrugged, and then headed off to college. A couple months later I looked at her blog and saw the post linked above and was heart broken. I had ADORED Heather and I was so upset/frustrated that she was just passing on her mantel to some dude.

Yes, you read that right. I 100% did not realise that he had transitioned. I fully bought into the faerie story. It seemed reasonable. Yes, I was 19/20ish at this point.

Anyways, a couple years go by and I'm back in Vegas during the ren faire and I heard a familiar fiddle line. And there was Alec, fiddling just like Heather had, and singing her songs and it was like being sent back in time to a slightly different past. I danced and sang and hung out for a couple of his sets and towards the end of the faire that day I walked up to say hi! And he said hi back and "Haven't seen you in a bit, how you been?"

And now I'm fucking confused as hell. So I fall back on "faking it" (my normal response to social situations where I don't know what the fuck to do) and mention I've been at uni and am just back for the next month and he asked all the things you do of young college students and I answered them becoming more and more bemused about the whole thing and eventually convinced myself he must of confused me with someone else.

It was a sweet interaction and I think a friend snapped a photo of us and then dragged me off to whatever shenanigans we were getting up to.

And a couple years passed and I wasn't really able to make it to faires frequently, and I was now living in Scotland and wanted to go see the Uffington horse on a weekend trip with coworkers, so I looked up Uffington Horse cd on my ipod, and then though "huh, I wonder what Alec has been doing with Heather's music." So I look him up and it FINALLY FUCKING OCCURed TO ME that Alec WAS Heather. It was 20 fucking 16. It had been almost 10 years of me just believing that Heather gave her discography to some guy. Holy shit.

I still remember sitting there staring blankly at the wall while Pirate Bill and Squiddly played on repeat desperately trying to understand how I had so completely misunderstood the events of 2006.

Hey, fellow fantasy nerds, I invite you to vibe along to this lesser known early 2000s fantasy banger 

[ngage2003]

Marble Hornets is a series that I would say largely doesn't have plot holes, and this is honestly mostly due to the fact that they never specify much, but that being said though, there is a massive one that often goes unnoticed in the fandom, and happens to intersect with one of my favorite things as a Marble Hornets Scholar—the actual ages of our colorful cast of characters.

"Gage!" You might be crying right about now. "But we don't know the specific ages of any of the characters!" And that is where you're wrong.

We can estimate the ages of at least three characters in the Marble Hornets cast, and there is a clear problem therein.

Alex is the easiest, where we are blatantly told he was born in 1986, on April 4th.⁽¹⁾ This would mean during the filming of Marble Hornets he would 19 or 20 years old, and probably the latter since a film project like he was undertaking would probably be closer to a summative than early in the year.

Additionally, his age would probably mean he is in his second year of college, provided he didn't take a gap year.

This is actually further backed up by the fact that we know Brian is a third year in college.⁽²⁾ This is something specifically highlighted on the Marble Hornets website under the Cast tab as if its out of the ordinary, meaning the rest of the cast are probably in their second year if I had to guess.

This puts everyone's ages at probably around 19-20 in 2006.

Easy, yeah?

But then comes the topic of Tim, that being that we can actually estimate his age due to another factor, his medical records from Entry 60.5.

During a hospital visit on December 20th 1995, it is stated that Tim has completed or is in his 2nd year of education.⁽³⁾ And at that time Tim weighs 21 kg and is 107 centimeters tall, which translates to 46.297 pounds and 42.126 inches, which are either on the extreme low side of healthy for an eight year old boy, or moderately healthy for a 7 year old boy.⁽⁴⁾⁽⁵⁾

For those not in the know, the age for 2nd graders is 7-8 years old, and the age for 3rd is 8-9.

And that is the issue. Because that would mean that in fall of 2005-early 2006, Tim would be either 18 or even 17, and maybe not even realistically graduated from highschool, as his birthday is June 19th⁽⁶⁾ meaning it would still only have been 10 birthdays rather than 11 between then and the recording of Marble Hornets.

It goes without saying that this is a massive discrepancy, and probably an unintentional one because if Brian's being a third year was being highlighted, then this definitely would have been in my opinion—especially if this was for Alex's class presumably as a second year.

There is just little to no time for Brian and Tim to realistically meet and become friends if this is his age, or for Tim to even attend college, seeing as he was probably fresh out of the mental health institution and probably didn't even have the right credentials to go.

It is a mindboggling misstep, and in my opinion is one that should be totally discounted in any fan project, but is a blatant hole in the lore of Marble Hornets.

Tim is simultaneously a second year at college and 17-18. Marble Hornets has pocket dimensions of time apparently.

Thanks for reading.

(1) "Alex Kralie, born April 4th 1986," (https://web.archive.org/web/20150425230637/http://www.marblehornets.com/castcrew.html) (2) "Brian has been attending the university for three years, and is hoping to graduate after his next couple of semesters," (https://web.archive.org/web/20150425230637/http://www.marblehornets.com/castcrew.html) (3) There is some information that is filled in improperly on the record of Tim's hospital visit, such as the question, "Have you been hospitalized at our facility in the past 7 days" being answered with "No" despite the fact that Tim was very much hospitalized. It is in this same assessment where the question, "Last grade in school attended" is answered with "2," and due to the fact some stuff has been filled out kinda awkwardly, I think its debatable if that means he is in second grade or completed it. (4) (https://childrenswi.org/medical-care/adolescent-health-and-medicine/issues-and-concerns/adolescent-growth-and-development/normal-growth) (5) (https://www.nationwidechildrens.org/conditions/health-library/normal-growth) (6) Confirmed by Tim Sutton in the 3rd Cast Commentary at 1:07:28. (https://youtu.be/Z6FJvU651Sw?t=4044) Thank you @unholyslasher for helping me pinpoint that!

[ladsbible]

Pathetic Caleb. Like he’s busting like a virgin (he totally is) when yall makeout. Lowk he’d try to fuck even tho he’s came his pants 3 times in the span of 10 minutes (bro is still fully clothed 💀) and overstimulates himself half to death after making you cum like… once.

He swears it's the lights. So red, shining against the sweat on your cheek as the minutes pass.

5, 10, 15, 30, 40, close to 60 minutes by now.

It's been almost an hour now since he kissed you for the first time, and it's torture to keep holding back. To keep his hands to himself, his body, his hips...By this point, would you really blame him? He's needed this for so long.

Rutting up against you is a given, hands searching, clinging to any part of you that doesn't make you shy away. He pushes the boundaries, checking where he can grab, where he can grope. You don't mind as much as he thinks you would, and you're shocked it's taken him this long actually. You like the way he doesn't notice how much he whimpers for it, and you like even more how he doesn't notice his own suffering. It's the way he'll do it for you. Rutting up against you without full intention, sticky hair rubbing against your forehead as he gets lost in the kiss, just to hold himself back for your comfort. All it would take is for him to lower his hand, to take the leap and slide it down your shorts, but no, he's too respectful for that. Not so respectful though, because he's still got your leg between his, and he's still sliding his obvious, weeping and pathetic cock against you. God, he's probably rubbing himself raw. "Caleb..." You whisper between kisses, so breathless you barely manage a voice at all. But he pauses, pulling back with pupils blown, hair a sweaty mess. "Yeah?" He huffs out, chest heaving, hips still rutting, and all you can do is caress his cheek. "Why are you holding back?" There's a look in his eye, a look that quickly falters and rolls back before he's closing them. His brows furrow and he's dropping his head as he aggressively pushes his cock against your thigh. "Fuck, you can't say that to me right now." You'd argue, honestly you would, but you can see him quiver, nearly writhe on top of you at the short statement. Already, he's coming undone, making a mess of his pants, wincing in pain at the sensitivity. He really did rub it raw in an attempt to contain his need, deliberately choosing to ignore the fact that you're literally, finally, making out with him. To ignore the playlist, how wet you are. God, if he'd just....do it. If he'd just...realize, maybe you'd have cum too. But you're not so mad just minutes later, as you slip your own hand down your shorts, seeing his eyes glisten in the red light, watching you closely. "Wait, you-" He pauses, amazed that you're actually into it. It's not one sided. "You're into this?" "Stop playing dumb," You'd groan slightly as he watches the way your hand moves beneath the shorts. "You know I'd let you." And so, with an embarrassing twitch of his already sensitive cock, he takes the plunge. Hands covering yours, looking into your eyes, replacing your fingers, sliding them in. As if he hasn't dreamed of this. As if he hasn't wanted to feel this for years, and years, and years. He can barely comprehend it, rolling his eyes back once again. "And you know I won't last-" He groans softly against your neck, fingers moving now at a pace you can barely comprehend. He's right. You did know, but god if he doesn't try. Fuck if he doesn't get you off this time too.

[sknyuz]

Hello! Congratulations on 400 followers, i love your writing and you definitely deserve it💜

I was wondering if i could request an Scoups x reader with the song Still into you by Paramore? Super fluffy please

Here's to many more followers💜

still into you - c.s.c.

now playing — still into you - paramore pairing — choi seungcheol (s.coups) x reader genre — highschool sweethearts, romance, fluff, slice of life, strangers to lovers to married couple !! cw — usual casual skinship, a little bit of a lover’s quarrel, cheol is so into you wc — ~3k

note: oh cheol my beloved !! i love this so much and i hope u guys love reading it just as much as i did writing it (ㅅ´ ˘ `) so happy to finally welcome cheol to my growing masterlist !! thank u @reiofsuns2001 for this request !! im so sorry it took so long, rei >><< sobs i have so much piled up !!

10 out of 13 members, three to go !! so pretty plz request any jun, hao (plsplspls i ult him), and shua (i have smth for him but im not very confident in it lol)

can't count the years on one hand that we've been together...

you always sat at the front of the class—highlighters in perfect color-coded rows, your handwriting criminally neat, the kind teachers loved to show off as an example. you didn’t talk much because you didn’t need to. your grades spoke for you.

seungcheol, on the other hand, was sat behind you. laughing with his team in the hallways, quiet in class, his football varsity jacket nearly always slipping off one shoulder. he chewed gum when he wasn’t supposed to, passed notes to his friends during lectures, and somehow still managed to charm every teacher in the building.

you weren’t supposed to end up together,

you were the scholarship student, the overachiever. seungcheol was the football team’s rising golden boy, all brawn and charming grins.

but one day in sophomore year, he leaned forward with a crooked smile and an awkward scratch to the back of his neck.

“hey… can i borrow a pencil? i swear i’ll give it back.”

you didn’t answer, just handed him your backup—a pink mechanical pencil that had a little heart-shaped eraser on the end. he grinned, mouthed a silent “thank you” as you rolled your eyes and turned back around.

you never got that pencil back.

but three weeks later, he offered you a ride home after late labs, nervous hand gripping the steering wheel of his dad’s honda civic.

“i kinda owe you, y’know?” he huffed, the lamest excuse to spend a little time with you. “wanna maybe... grab a meal before i take you home?”

and you said yes. he told his teammates about it the next morning in the locker rooms like it was the biggest win of his life.

now, several years later, you’re sitting beside him in the university library, quizzing him on finance terms you already know by heart.

you’re wearing that same battered varsity jacket—the one with the stitched-on patch from your high school. it’s a little faded now, the sleeves too long with the collar fraying. but it smells like seungcheol and fits like a memory, and he always says it looks better on you anyway.

his arm is draped around your waist, hand resting gently on your thigh as you lean into him. the world outside is cold, deadlines piling up, futures uncertain. but in this quiet corner of campus, you’re just the girl who gave him a pencil, and he’s still the boy who forgot his.

seungcheol glances down at you, eyes full of something warm and familiar. “hey, babe. how long have we been together?” he suddenly pipes up, eyes scanning yours. “like... six years...?” you murmur, eyes still trained on the flashcards you were organizing. “that’s wild.” he whispers, mostly to himself. you smile at this, brushing your thumb against his knuckles. “yeah, and you still haven’t given back my pencil.”

he groans, burying his face in your shoulder. “you’re never gonna let that go, huh?”

“never,” you laugh, and in your chest, something soft tugs.

because after all those years later, it’s still him. it’s still you and him against the world.

and, baby, even on our worst nights / i’m into you (i’m into you)

it wasn’t a good night.

you were both running on empty—too many deadlines, too little sleep. you had snapped first, voice sharp and exhausted, tossing a sarcastic comment over your shoulder when he forgot to pick up the takeout.

seungcheol snapped back. it didn’t happen often, but when it did, it hurt in ways neither of you liked admitting.

the apartment was quiet after that. he shut himself in the bedroom, while you curled up on the couch with a blanket and a dull ache behind your eyes.

you were halfway through scrolling aimlessly on your phone when you heard the bedroom door creak open.

seungcheol stood in the doorway, hair messy, eyes glassy with his brows furrowed. he looked younger like that—vulnerable in a way he didn’t let the world see. only you.

he didn’t say anything at first. just walked over and sank down beside you, his shoulder brushing yours. you didn’t lean into him—not yet—but you didn’t pull away either.

“i’m sorry,” he said quietly. “i didn’t mean to… y’know, be a jerk.”

you nodded, eyes still fixed on the screen. “me too.”

there was a pause. then his hand found yours beneath the blanket, fingers weaving through automatically, like muscle memory.

his thumb rubbed slow circles into your skin.

“we’re not perfect,” he said, almost to himself. “but… i’m still yours, even when we fight, or when it’s messy. especially then.”

you turned your head, finally meeting his eyes. they were tired, but soft. “me too,” you whispered. “even when you leave the laundry in the machine for three days.”

he snorted, “low blow.” but he leaned in, kissed your temple, and pulled you into his chest. you let yourself melt against him, the warmth of his familiar varsity jacket surrounding you again like home.

some nights were hard, but even on the worst of them—you never doubted the way seungcheol loved you, and he never let you forget it.

recount the night that i first met your mother / and on the drive back to my house, i told you that, i told you that i loved ya

seungcheol had never been the nervous type.

not even back in his first big game, when the whole stadium would hold its breath waiting for the quarterback to make the play, not during final exams, or during his first part-time job interview or the time he accidentally ripped his pants before a group presentation as a freshman.

but tonight?

tonight, now a high school senior, sitting across from your mother at the dinner table, spoon clutched too tight in his hand—he was spiraling.

“you’re sweating,” you whispered while passing him the kimchi, amusement sparkling in your eyes. “you literally played full-contact sports in summer and didn’t sweat this much.”

he shot you a betrayed look, cheeks flushed. “why didn’t you warn me your mom was so intense?”

“she’s not. she’s just... thorough,” you replied, clearly enjoying yourself far too much.

his hands were clammy, he kept adjusting his posture like that would magically make the nerves go away. this was worse than the championship game sophomore year, when the entire school was watching and he fumbled a play.

your mom, across the table, had a polite smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes yet. her tone was kind, but her questions were anything but casual.

“so, seungcheol,” she said, folding her hands. “what exactly are your intentions?”

he blanked. the word ‘intentions’ echoed like a judge’s gavel in his skull. “uh... good ones?” he croaked, as your dad snorted into his drink. you kicked him gently under the table.

“i mean—i’ve been with y/n since we were sophomores,” seungcheol tried again, “and i... i’m really serious about them. always have been.”

your mom raised an eyebrow, making him want to just freaking disappear into the mashed potatoes.

still, she let him take leftovers when you left, in the nice, airtight lock containers, and that was a silent blessing if he ever saw one.

the car ride home was quiet at first. the hum of your shared playlist playing low through the speakers. you rested your hand on his thigh, thumb moving in slow circles.

“you did great, by the way,” you said softly.

“i bombed,” he sighed. “that was worse than any away game. ever. she had me sweating like i was back under the friday night lights.”

you smiled, turning your body toward him as the city lights streaked past the window. “she likes you, cheol. she just needed to see for herself what i already know.”

he glanced over at you, then back at the road. his grip on the wheel tightened, then loosened.

“i told myself i’d wait longer to say this,” he murmured. “but i’m kinda done waiting.”

your breath caught, turning your head fully toward him now.

“i love you,” he said, eyes still on the road but voice sure, steady—like a promise.

then, just as quickly, his bravado cracked, “you don’t have to say it back,” he rushed, hands tightening on the wheel. “i just—”

but you leaned across the console, cutting him off as you gently pressed your lips onto his cheek, and whispered, “say it again.”

seungcheol did. three more times before the red light turned green.

and from that night on, your mom always made sure to pack extra banchan for him “just in case.”

and to your favorite song / we sang along to the start of forever

that dumb summer playlist you made is still saved on his phone.

you pretend to hate it, rolling your eyes whenever “teenage dream” comes on.

but when your favorite track starts, seungcheol always turns the volume up, grinning like it’s some unspoken tradition.

he leans over and kisses your cheek, soft and sure—like he’s marking the moment.

that playlist becomes the background noise of your entire relationship: your fights, your makeups, those late-night fast food runs when neither of you want to be alone.

then one day, without much warning, he’s driving you back to that lake you used to sneak off to in high school.

the playlist is on shuffle, but you know he rigged it—because just as he pulls the car to a stop, your song starts to play.

he turns the volume up even louder, the corners of his mouth twitching into a nervous smile.

“remember this?” he asks softly, eyes locked on yours through the rearview mirror.

you nod, heart fluttering with all the memories: summer nights, laughter echoing over water, secrets shared under the stars.

he reaches over, slipping his varsity jacket off your shoulders and setting it carefully on the seat beside you.

his hand lingers near his pants pocket, fingers nervously tracing the small, worn box tucked inside—edges softened from years of carrying it around, though you don’t see it yet.

“i didn’t tell you where we were going,” he says, voice low but steady, “but this place… this is where everything started, isn’t it?”

you remember the day he took you here before, that nervous grin on his face, chest puffed out like he’d just won a championship, and how, just before driving you back home, he finally asked you out—your heart racing as you said yes.

you glance out at the calm lake, a quiet smile curling your lips as the sky blushes with sunset.

he kills the engine, and the soft hum of the playlist continues through the car speakers.

seungcheol opens his door first and steps out into the fading gold of sunset, the breeze tugging gently at his shirt. he walks around to your side, and for a second, just stands there—one hand on the roof of the car, the other fidgeting at his side.

then he looks at you like he’s memorizing this—your expression lit by the warm spill of twilight, the way the music floats out from the open car, soft and familiar. there’s something tender in his eyes, a quiet awe, like he still can’t believe you’re his.

“come on,” he says finally, voice thick with emotion as he opens your door and holds out his hand.

and when you take it, he squeezes just a little tighter than usual, like he’s holding onto something sacred.

for a moment, the two of you just stand there.

the lake stretches out in front of you, still and familiar, kissed by the amber glow of early evening. the gravel crunches beneath your shoes as you step closer to the edge. seungcheol doesn’t say anything right away—he just watches you, eyes searching your face like he's trying to soak up every detail.

his hand slips from yours briefly, brushing down the side of his jeans. you notice the subtle way he fiddles with something in his pocket, but before you can ask, he draws in a breath.

then, slowly, almost reverently, he lowers himself onto one knee. right there by the water’s edge, golden light spilling over his shoulders like something out of a dream.

your breath catches before your mind even fully registers what’s happening.

you blink—once, twice—like you’re trying to memorize every second, to lock it into place. the lake, the sky, the song drifting from the car, the way his hair glows like it’s lit from within. he looks up at you with that same expression he wore the night he first asked you out—hopeful, wide open, like you hung the stars.

your heart pounds so hard it almost hurts. not out of surprise, but because this moment feels so full, so right, it could spill over. it’s everything at once—past, present, future—folding into one perfect, dizzying breath. and when seungcheol speaks, you can’t help but feel all choked up.

“some things just make sense,” he says, eyes never leaving yours. “and one of those is you and i.” he opens the box to reveal a simple, perfect ring.

“not a day’s gone by that i haven’t been into you, so let’s make it forever.”

your breath catches as you feel hot tears start to pool in your eyes, and you reach out to pull him up—nodding eagerly, the start of forever written in the way your fingers find his, unshakable.

let 'em wonder how we got this far / 'cause i don't really need to wonder at all

mingyu’s trying to fix his tie in the mirror, frowning like the fabric personally offended him. “does anyone actually know how to do this right?”

jeonghan laughs from the couch, sipping a bottle of water. “you’re hopeless. give it here.”

across the room, seungkwan is adjusting the boutonnière on seungcheol’s lapel, squinting with all the concentration of a man diffusing a bomb. “stay still, hyung. i swear if this thing falls off during your vows…”

“i’m not even moving,” seungcheol chuckles, but his hands are shaking slightly where they rest in his lap.

“still nervous?” dokyeom asks, nudging his shoulder.

“a little,” seungcheol admits. “but it’s a good kind.”

mingyu glances over his shoulder with a smirk. “can’t believe they’re still putting up with you after all these years.”

“seriously,” soonyoung adds from where he’s scrolling through photos on his phone. “i would’ve bailed after the ramen incident back in freshman year.”

“or the time you mixed up your anniversary date and took them to a haunted house instead of a dinner reservation,” minghao mutters, deadpan.

the room breaks into laughter, recalling you and seungcheol’s moments over the years.

seungcheol just laughs, rubbing the back of his neck as the room buzzes with teasing. “you know what? i don’t even wonder how we got here.”

mingyu raises an eyebrow in the mirror, “no?”

the groom shakes his head, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “not even a little. they’ve always been it for me.”

mingyu nods slowly, fixing his tie. “yeah… ‘cause they’re the only one who’s ever looked at you like you hung the damn stars.”

jeonghan lets out a low whistle, “look at these guys getting sentimental before the ceremony.”

“hyung’s earned it,” wonwoo says quietly from the corner.

but seungcheol doesn’t disagree. not when he’s about to walk down the aisle to the one person who’s still into him—even on his worst days.

you’re still into each other, and seungcheol never needed to wonder why.

yeah, after all this time / i'm still into you

the music swells, the doors open, and time stutters.

seungcheol forgets how to breathe.

you stand at the end of the aisle, framed by flowers and soft light, looking like something out of a memory and a promise all at once. seungcheol’s breath catches, the nerves from earlier melting into something quieter, deeper—reverence.

soft piano keys ripple through the air, a delicate, heartfelt rendition of still into you filling the room—each note tender, every pause holding the weight of years you’ve shared.

“holy shit,” mingyu whispers beside him, and jeonghan elbows him in the ribs.

but seungcheol doesn’t hear a thing—his eyes are only on you.

each step you take feels suspended in warmth, in years’ worth of laughter, fights, slow study sessions, and late-night drives in his beat-up honda civic that survived highschool and the transition to university. his hands tremble at his sides, jaw tight like he’s holding in everything he can’t say just yet.

when you finally reach him, he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding as you take his hands. they’re warm and familiar.

the officiant speaks, but it’s background noise. everything else fades away.

all seungcheol sees is you, and all you see is him.

and when it’s time—when the words are said, and the universe feels like it’s holding its breath—he leans in.

the kiss is soft, sure. not rushed. like he knows he has forever to do this again.

and again...

and again.

𐔌 . ⋮ taglist .ᐟ seventeen ֹ ₊ ꒱ @kstrucknet | @ateez-atiny380 @alien0n3arth @cuppasunu @dhaliaa1211 @seokminfilm @babilou-pov @crowneve @hhaechansmoless @triciawritesstuff @sopitadearvejas @slytherinshua @chronicfic @xh01bri @d4ily-s-nsh1ne @snowflakemoon3 @bbangbies @kibtsuji @dahlia-blossom @dhaliaa1211 @symphonies-of-poenies

[badassbutterfly1987]

(ID: Pic 1: Words on a white background next to an analog clock. "'It will get better', they say. I've been waiting for years for it to get better."

Pic 2: "Cause everyone's growing and everyone's healthy. I'm terrified that I might never have met me."

Pic 3: "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. This may be me at my best."

Pic 4: "The buttons of my coat were tangled in my hair. In doctor's office lighting, I didn't tell you I was scared. That was the first time that we were there."

Pic 5: "All of this turbulence wasn't forecasted, apologies from the intercom, and I am relieved I'd left my room tidy. They'll think of me kindly when they come for my things."

Pic 6: "I burn for what's no longer mine."

Pic 7: "Do you miss it? Can you feel it? How do you cope? Where do you put the pain? Where do you leave it when you lie down to sleep? Do you sleep? Have you been sleeping? Or is everything too much? Have you considered taking a step back? Have you looked at your choices lately? Are you still you?"

Pic 8: "You can never go back! You can never go back! You can bite and scratch and beg but you can never go back!"

Pic 9: Words laid over the siloughette of a person walking along a beach. "I feel trapped in a body that doesn't want me to be truly happy."

Pic 10: "I'll let Him take accountability for everything that's wrong with me. Can't hold myself responsible so I blame the metaphysical. If Jesus died for all our sins, He left one behind, the body I'm in. Same hands that made the moon and the stars got carpal tunnel and forgot some parts. I don't know what I believe, but it's easier to think He made a mistake with me."

Pic 11: "It is overwhelming that I will carry this for the rest of my life."

Pic 12: "Somebody get me a hammer. Wanna break all the clocks and the mirrors, and go back to a time that was different. A time when I didn't feel like something was missing, now my body and mind are so distant."

Pic 13: "Tell me where to put the anger. Tell me where to put the anger. Tell me where to put the anger."

Pic 14: "Most days I don't recognize me."

Pic 15: "Holy orange bottles, each night, I pray to you. Desperate people find faith, so now I pray to Jesus too." End ID.)

Was I made from a broken mold?

@camaceall/growing sideways, noah kahan/calling a wolf a wolf, kaveh akbar/soon you'll get better, taylor swift/the last words of a shooting star, mitski/unknown/unknown/ @ryebreadgf/@/geloyconcepcion on instagram/god must hate me, catie turner/words from @/simply.simoney on instagram/I can't breath, bea miller/@holyaches on twitter/she used to be mine, sara bareilles/soon you'll get better, taylor swift/idontwannabeyouanymore, billie eilish

[xmaruu11]

Hello! Fellow comic writer here ^-^ Hope you and Doody are taking a little downtime after the recent update!

I discovered DH just after the Mother Spore arc, and I was curious how quickly the series grew to the audience it has now. Was it steady and gradual or did something give it a boost all at once?

I HAD THIS ASK SITTING IN MY ASKBOX FOR MONTHS CUZ I WANNA TALK SO BAD ABOUT IT !! BUT LIFE HAPPENED AND I COULDNT

Get ready for story time!

A lot of people think DDVAU started in 2024, after mother spore. But it didn't. Yes the boom of the story was January-February 2024, but the story has been going on since 2022, November 2022.

When we started DDVAU Doody and I were both University students, in our second year im pretty sure, so the updates didn't have a schedule and there wasn't an overarching plot. The idea for the mother spore arc happened in january / february 2023. But at that point we were working on chapter 10 and the valentines special. And then life happened, personal stuff happened and we took a hiatus until August 2023, and then December 2023. Again, it took,, time...

DDVAU had a small following at that time, and both of us were okay with that, we weren't expecting the amount of support it had during that time (2k notes per update), we felt overwhelmed with love at that point!

Then mother spore part 1 happened, december 2023. That was the first time I decided to go crazy on twitter and start posting with // DDVAU spoilers, and just be a fan of my best friend work. I didn't know that by doing that, it called a lot of people attention. This chapter ended up in a cliffhanger AND it showed a lot of other characters that we never shown before, so a lot of people were interested because their favorite guy appeared! Also we had multiple pretty cute moments between characters. Then people started livetweeting and sharing their opinion using DDVAU spoilers. It kinda snowballed after that. People asked what it was and people shared.

Doody and I thought it was gonna just be that, one simple update and then it stopped. BUT IT DIDNT! Then February 2024, Mother Spore 2 came out, and the whole process of last time repeated. And since this one had more action, everyone was more curious and more interested in what was going on. I keep tweeting and interacting with fans, cuz I am patient 0, DDVAU biggest fan.

THEN the DDVAU server happened, and a lot of people started joining, and I joined as well. People shared fanart, theories, we were able to chat and be nerds with each other. It build up hype for the next hiatus since again.. Doody and I were still university students.

Mother Spore and the end of volume 1 dropped in August 2024. The process repeated again, I also streamed again to keep the hype up. Doody and I yapped for hours and shared fun tweets and live reactions.

AND THEN, the first merch drop happened and once again people were surprised and sharing their thoughts and ideas and everything. Then our lovely friends and guys at the DDVAU server, planned an entire Zine for christmas to surprise doody and I, which again CRAZY!!

Then volume 2 happened, we started uploading it to webtoon and just kinda, kept doing what we like. The monthly schedule helps to build up hype, monthly streams and just,, having fun with my friend helps a lot.

But of course, nothing would have happened if we didnt have so many lovely and wonderful people that just support everything we do. All the lovely people who buy merch and support the kofi (since its the only way we actually get paid as an indie project), all the lovely people who are in the discord, share on twitter and tumblr and tiktok and literally anywhere.

Its always great and so lovely :D

DDVAU growth didnt happened overnight, we worked for a year before mother spore exploded, and then we just kept sharing our passion and love for this story, causing so many more people two get interested.

This is a dream came true, and I wanna thank everyone for letting us live in it

[lochnessie]

Thoughts on The Android (Animorphs #10) pt 2

Oh Erek is so cool actually what. Why did i dislike this book? Marco being marco? the ending of it? probly some of both i guess but it's not bad.

Oh that's why. Such 'intelligent' beings but they haven't yet figured out their definition of violence. I mean sure Erek isn't hurting the Yeerk in his head but he is stealing its memories and keeping it from living the life it intended to live, or any life at all. Like....that's a form of hurting/violence babe. I could think of a million ways the chee could help win this war without the fancy crystal, the first of which being running full defense. Go to a battle and just straight up be an animorph shield. no violence necessary beyond the enabling of it. Or be spies. Erek is already doing that and could be huge intelligence help for the animorphs. Could also probably set up communication with andalites or maybe other aliens to get allies in on this. like. come on. I know this needed to be a one off but like....seriously?

lmao okay have fun while it lasts kiddos

Lol Cassie you mean the Author? why in the world did you All have to do the wire maze? surely only one or two should have gone and then others could have stayed hugging the wall.

nothing to say really, that's just super fuckin cool. insane the damage marco took though. 'gorilla insides..my insides. My insides!' and getting stabbed in the heart only to barely morph out and still needing a shock to come back to life. Damn.

Rachel's tears. Fuck.

Okay i get why applegate included the paragraph about violence taking pieces of you and leaving scarred memories that never leave you or whatever but like. Erek you were a slave and have lived thousands of years. You've never been a war medic? Never saw the brutality of what a slave master would do? The tortures of the middle ages or whatever? That's gotta be fresh still too, and you rewrote your programming to be able to stop that from happening in your presence ever again. You're going to go back to nonconsensual pacifism without even a compromise because of 10 seconds of blood? And why haven't the Chee gone into politics? their definition of violence would allow for them to get in there and make for more peace all over the world? wtf have u guys been doing you assholes? ugh these guys make for too many plot holes.

see?! He could give them all untraceable cell phones they could call each other with! could probably bug a few yeerk ships and sharing meeting spots like. HELLO. chee spies!!

and those dogs who paddled out to leave the crystal in the ocean are just leaving it to wash up pretty soon. like that's not far enough for it to be gone for long but whatever. whatever man

[thepraline]

rambling...

I met with my opera coach today even though I was tired, and surprisingly, I had a great day! BUT we're both agreeing on a few things that I myself brought to her attention 😭. I'm coming to peace with how my higher register just isn't as rich as it was when I was 10 ☠️. Maybe the years of me not singing are what did it, and I'm still not out of the rusted phase, but it's thinner.

I'll give myself credit by saying I have a very big voice, it's my best quality, but that's where the struggle in my higher register comes out. I've been sounding very shrill and on the verge of just screaming, and thats....not good 😭 I can be honest with myself just like I am with anyone else and say that.

My coach is older and still believes in the older techniques with the developed chest/low register, so my low register is fine, sometimes I even walk the line of it sounding too dark ☠️. BUTTTTT with my issues with that thinner high register, my portamento is a little jarring 😭.

I know it's gonna take work...I'm just panicking I guess. It sends me into a very bad mood when I have to hear that shrillness coming out of my mouth but it is what it is and I'll take it day by day

[generallemarc]

Microsoft has just announced a price increase in "some of our new, first-party games" to $79.99 starting this holiday season

I don't know whether or not to blame Nintendo, because it honestly seems as if all of the big three were just waiting for an excuse to do this, and Nintendo just so happened to be the one to do it first. I'm seeing multiple gaming news videos predicting another video game crash, and honestly? I hope that's what happens. I hope these absolute buffoons get exactly what they have coming to them and lose tens of millions of dollars when they should've been making bank because they forgot that they're in an industry that's entirely based around leisure. Nobody needs anything related to video games unless they're a content creator based around them, which means that for 99.999% of us we can spend literally nothing on this sector and keep on living just fine. So when companies think they can just do universal price-hikes and not see a drop in sales, well, they're fucking morons.

Maybe 10 years ago this might've worked, but we now live in the age of Helldivers 2 and Palworld, of Balatro and Vampire Survivors, of Space Marine 2 and Clair Obscur Expedition 33. You want great gameplay, great story, an addictive game-breaking grindfest? The indie and double-a scene has you covered and then some. Helldivers 2 costs $40 to play and can be enjoyed without engaging with the monetization at all. Expedition 33 costs $50 and has sucked up dozens of hours of my free time on a single playthrough, which I still have not finished as I have at least 4 more superbosses to beat, each of which will require a decent amount of pattern-learning because at a certain point it really is like a Souls game where you either learn the patterns and how to dodge/parry them or you get hit by two attacks in a row and die on the spot. So yeah, the games industry is about to set itself on fire and I hope they do, because the actual valuable parts won't even get singed.

[all-pacas]

Top 10 Chase moments.

wait it's. it's hard to think of ten. what are the criteria. wait

in no order, here's 10 things i enjoy:

whenever he bonds with a kid, especially since he does it the same way every time: give them candy and talk to them on their level (about girls with the kid in cursed, aliens with the kid in cane and able). he's sooooo big brother (you ever notice, btw, how he's not like this with teenagers. he is so dismissive of teens he hates them so much. reason #87 retcon sister makes so much sense to me)

he's lowkey such a troll? i love when he lets his inner petty self shine, making fun of cameron in spin nonstop, poking at foreman and pretending he wants to be in charge in s7, he really enjoys Instigating and it's very silly

this is turning into a personality trait list uhh another moment i like: that petty side of chase rarely manifesting into stubbornness. in cursed he's mad at rowan so he decides to brute force test for EVERY auto-immune disease out of spite. in post mortem he's mad at treiber, so he decides to lock himself in the basement and brute force symptoms out of spite. he's so lazy 85% of the time and then he gets annoyed and works his ass off and is so good at it. house absolutely must hate this about him

in "poison" there's a moment where the kid is having a seizure and the subtitles say CHASE: Stay calm, and the words that chase utters are "stay cool, mate," and i think this is so funny. inexplicably

when cameron describes his apartment as "decorated by a drunk rugby player." so specific. so mysterious. i don't know what it means but i'm sure it's atrocious.

him becoming best friends with park's grandma. incredible. a++. it's funny on the face of it, them hanging out and playing card games, but it's also both sad and heartwarming. this man just wants a family!! it took him almost forty years but he's getting there!!

i love the running joke that chase isn't just good looking, but THE most attractive human on the planet, a 15 in the world of 10s. in the world of the show, other characters are average to good-looking (not beautiful actors), but not chase. he is THAT pretty. it is so funny to me. cameron was hired for her looks but chase is the one house spends more time objectifying. incredible.

his utter lack of fashion sense. his sweater-vests are an improvement over his horrendous color and pattern coordination, but it's still such an... old man fashion choice, you know? there are so many ways to style a shirt and tie and look fantastic and chase consistently goes "no, i will dress like a 60 year old/in the dark instead."

that his retcon sister calls him robbie. this COULD be a childhood nickname, but i also absolutely believe chase is the type of grown man who, in his late thirties, would still introduce himself as "robbie." very rich kid of him. love it.

whenever, despite chase's stated desire to be distant and apathetic and aloof, he completely fails. falls over himself, dripping compassion and empathy. he hates the nun in damned if you do; the second she gets upset he trips in his haste to pray with her. he sees thirteen upset and spends all of after hours desperately trying to help her. he's mad as hell at cameron in lockdown, but the second she starts crying he drops everything to comfort her. he is so fucking bad at this!!!

BONUS, RELATED TO ABOVE: that chase is the world's worst liar. i bet house has invited him to poker night entirely to clean him out and win thousands from him. i bet chase thinks he's a pretty good liar but literally no one has ever once been fooled.

[kooppss]

Fucking Kim Taehyung

Starry Night series masterlist

Mondays are always rough—but this one blindsides you. What begins as a typical chaotic workday ends with a surprise meeting to someone from your past: Kim Taehyung, your high school crush turned newly appointed creative director. You haven’t seen him in twelve years… not since that night.

This chapter is dedicated to my Kiks. Thank you for being my biggest supporter and fan—even on the days when I couldn’t believe in myself. I would have never posted this series, or any other content for that matter, if it weren’t for you. I’ll always be grateful for that ❤️ @jungkoode

a/n: so… here we go? I’ve been working on this on and off since July 2024, and I can’t believe it’s finally leaving my docs. I’m so nervous and excited! This fic holds a special place in my heart for so many reasons—I hope you’ll love this first step in the journey!

warnings: cursing (duh), alcohol

word count: 2.5K

Monday, July 8th

Mondays are always rough. 

You're still not fully recovered from the weekend, and there’s already shit-ton of work waiting for you. 

If you’ll find time for actual work, with all the meetings you have scheduled for today. 

You can’t help but sigh, and you rub your face, trying to muster up the energy for the day.

It is going to be a long day. 

And it’s not that you don’t love your job, because you do.

But still, it’s Monday. 

After getting the largest coffee from the coffee stand in the lobby, you sit by your desk and try to plan your day. Trying to fit in all the things you need to accomplish today. 

Only then do you notice an invite to a 7 pm meeting you haven’t approved yet. 

Toast for the New Art & Creative Director Date & Time: 7:00 PM Location: Meeting Room – Top Floor Join us as we raise a toast to welcome our new Art & Creative Directo……. Participation is mandatory for all managers.

Ughhh.

Sounds like a fucking nightmare. 

You roll your eyes at yourself. You hate that kinds of useless meetings. 

Participation is mandatory for all managers.

Fuck that.

You put your elbows on the desk, your head leans against your palms, and you let out a groan. Like this day wasn’t long enough. 

It is easy to assume that after this useless toast, you’ll probably never interact or even see this new director again. You have close to zero relations with the arts and creative department. What a fucking waste of time. 

But you have to go. Stupid corporate politics. 

You're not even gonna fake to care about it. 

You don’t even bother to read the details of the event; you just approve it. With a long sip of your coffee, you return to plan your day. You have only 10 minutes left before your first meeting.

The next few hours pass at a hectic pace. You eat your lunch at your desk while reviewing code for the upcoming app release, when your phone buzzes next to you.

With one glance at the screen, you curse under your breath. 

[12:38 pm] Gabby ♥️: 8:00 Norman’s?

Shit. You totally forgot. 

You talked about grabbing drinks after work. 

You’ll be out of the office at 8:30, at best. 

Fuck this stupid toast.

[12:40 pm] You: I have a stupid toast for a new director that i ttly forgot

[12:40 pm] You: srry 🥺

[12:40 pm] You: see u there at 9?

Part of you wishes she’d cancel, or you could bail. 

Yet you know you won’t cancel on her. She knows it, too.

The rest of the day is just as bad. 

You barely completed all the work you had for today by the time of the toast. 

You head to the fancy conference room on the top floor, trying to hype yourself up for it. 

Just some small talk, a few drinks, listening to a boring speech, and you’re out of here. It's a piece of cake. You've done this hundreds of times. You’ve got this. 

When you reach the floor, you spot Sohee. Thank god. You go straight to her. She’s talking to some girl you don't know. 

When you reach her, she jumps on you with a hug, “Y/nie! Let's go!”

You say an apologetic hello to the woman she talked to while Sohee smothers you as if you hadn’t seen each other on Saturday night. She says goodbye to the woman and pulls you with her to the conference room at the end of the hall. 

Sohee works as a manager in the fashion design department, and she looks like the part. 

She’s wearing a trendy form-fitted dress that complements her figure, her nails are well-manicured with dark burgundy, and her long brown hair is in a cool, effortless-looking bun.

Her subtle makeup complements her pretty features, looking fresh like it’s not the end of a work day.

Even though you never worked together, you met at meetings and events like that.

And Sohee made the decision for both of you to be friends. Now, she is one of your closest friends.

Meeting Sohee was a blessing. 

Most of the managers you work with are tech dudes, and as much as you get along with them, it’s nice to have a feminine energy. And someone you can pass the time at stupid events that waste your time, like this one. 

As you walk to the conference room, she glances at your attire: a simple T-shirt with baggy light-washed jeans and New Balance sneakers. Your usual go-to look at the office. 

She nudges you with her elbow, “When are you letting me dress you up? I can barely see that you have a great ass with these jeans.”

Here she goes again. 

You laugh. You do dress nicer sometimes, and she knows it. But you prefer to keep things casual and comfortable. Safe.

“That ass sat on a chair all day, no one cares how it looks.”

You give her a chicky smile, “But that ass is really glad it got to be in comfortable pants and not crushed by a tight dress.” 

She gasps in fake offense and chuckles, “You’ll regret mocking me, and my ass, when you see the new director.” Then she lowers her tone, “I heard he’s really hot.” 

At that, you really laugh, “I’m not holding my breath.”

“Of course not with your high-school-teenage-boy outfit!” she scolds you. 

You start to protest, “I’m not dressed like a teen-” but she cuts you off, “I heard he’s a real treat. A whole meal even. Would it wound you and try to flirt a little?”

You roll your eyes at her, but she doesn’t give up, trying to hype you up, “You’re the best catch at this place! It’s a crime a fine lady like you is single.” 

You scoff, “A fine lady? What are you? Jane Austen?” 

She gives you an unimpressed look, “How long has it been since you’ve been on a date? You could use some sexy after-hours fun.”

“I don’t have the energy capacity for handling men,” you say evenly. Like it’s above you, and before she can protest, you continue, “and anyway, I’m not going to get involved with someone from the office! It’s like the worst idea ever. I prefer my life drama-free. Thank you very much.” 

Sohee pouts, trying to convince you with a sweet voice, “Butttt I heard from the girls he’s not only like a walking-talking-wet-dream-prince-charming, but he’s also really, really sweet.”

You smile and pat her shoulder, “Then he’s all yours, baby.” 

And you mean it. You kind of gave up on dating. 

Your recent dating list is full of: 

guys who wanted you to have more time for them.

guys who are intimidated by the fact that you don’t need them.

losers that you felt like you were their sugar mama. 

No, thank you. 

So you gave up. For now. Dating isn’t worth your time. 

You step into the elegant room with its stunning city view, grab a glass of nice champagne, take a deep breath, and then join Sohee as she heads to talk to a group of familiar colleagues. 

You pass the time until the actual toast by chatting about the new coffee machines, the new restaurant that opened across the street, and other mundane office small-talk topics. 

One of the girls, Hannah, leans in and whispers excitedly, “Have you seen the new director? Kim something. I swear he’s the most handsome man I’ve ever seen.”

You internally roll your eyes; she's so dramatic. You’re sure he’s good-looking, but the most handsome man ever? Okay, sure. 

Amanda chimes in, ” There is going to be chaos for him.”

Sohee wiggles her brows, “Well, Amanda, are you going to try your luck?”

“You know I will,” she answers with a wink. 

You all laugh at that. 

The room settles into silence when the chairman clinks his glass.

You turn around to look at him, and then you see him. 

The new director. 

Kim something. 

Fucking Kim Taehyung. 

The most handsome man you've ever seen in your life. 

Indeed. 

You are in shock. 

You glare, and your mouth falls slightly open. You feel like you froze in place, but your blood boils, and you feel the heat spread over your face. 

He looks in your direction with a slightly amused expression and a crooked smile. 

He looks a little surprised, but definitely not as much as you. 

He raises his glass subtly as if motioning hello to you. 

It can’t be. 

Does he recognize you? Does he even remember you?

“You know him?” Sohee whispers in your ear, noticing something is going on with you.

It snaps you out of your shock a little. 

You nod as you turn to look away from him. “Yeah, we knew each other in high school,” you reply quietly. 

She gives you a questioning look as if saying, ‘That’s it?’ You shrug and turn back to face the chairman and the new director. 

Fucking Kim Taehyung. 

From this point, you have no idea what the speakers are talking about. 

You just try to calm your beating heart and stop blushing like a teenager. 

You down a second glass of champagne. As if it’ll help you to wrap your mind around the fact you’re standing in front of  Kim Taehyung. 

When it’s his time to talk, you feel like you spiral even more. 

His deep voice fills the room. “Thank you, Mr. Roberts, for your kind words. I’m excited about this new opportunity. I hope to lead the department through the challenges we have the following year.” 

He raises his almost-empty glass and smiles. You feel like he’s looking directly into your eyes as he says, “I can’t wait to get to know and to work with all of you. Thank you for coming.”

But you might be delusional. 

You are probably in a delusion. 

Why does he have this effect on you at all? After all these years?

Was he always this tall?

That suited look looks good on him.

And his hair. It looks so soft.

How is his skin so glowy? Is he wearing makeup?

Is there a chance he looks even better now? 

Everyone is clapping. You blink a couple of times and snap back to reality. 

Sohee is looking at you with an amused look on her face while she’s slowly clapping. 

“I never saw you blushing like that for a guy.” 

You frown at her. “I’m not blushing. It’s just the alcohol,” you shoot back way too quickly for it to be normal.

She chuckles and raises her hand in mock defense. “OK, OK, so will you go to say welcome?” She motions with her head in his general direction. 

You look to where he stands and can only see the sea of people surrounding him.

“Nah, I need to head out. I’m meeting Gabby at some bar.” You try to say as casually as you can. 

It’s not a lie. 

Mostly.

Partially. 

You are going to meet Gabby. 

But if you head out now, you’ll definitely be there earlier than you told her that you would. 

Yet you know you need to get out of here. Quickly. 

So you say quick goodbyes to the people around you and get out as soon as possible.  Practically fleeting from the event. 

Running away from facing a meeting you're not ready for. 

Not right now. 

You sit at the bar at 08:20 and order a glass of wine. 

You try not to think about what just happened. 

How good he looked. 

How deep his voice is. 

About how he looked at you.

No. 

He wasn’t looking at you. 

You must have lost your mind. 

He probably doesn’t even remember you. 

It’s been like, what? 12 years? from the last time you saw him. 

You were just another random girl. 

Shit, this is not working. 

You order another glass and do what you know best- busy yourself with work. 

You reply to some messages you haven’t gotten to today and schedule some meetings with your teams for tomorrow. 

Before you even notice, it’s 09:05, and Gabby is hugging you with a big smile. 

“I can’t believe you came on time! Now I feel bad that I’m late.”

You laugh and hug her, “Don’t worry about it.”

She sits in the chair by your side, and you see she has a question on her mind, “Didn’t you say you have some stupid toast you have to attend and kiss some management asses?”

You laugh, “Yeah, it was stupid. I managed to dip as soon as the speeches ended, luckily.” 

You avoid telling her you fled the meeting, arriving 40 minutes early. 

For a moment, you consider telling her that the new director is no other than fucking Kim Taehyung.

She knows who he is, and she knows about your small history with him.

No, it’s better to wait with this. You need the distraction more than the comfort of sharing.

You’ll tell her eventually when you come back to your senses. 

“Is everything okay?” Gabby looks at you with a worried look on her face. 

“Yeah, just a long day,” you lie easily. 

“What are you drinking?” you change the subject with a smile.

Later that night, Tuesday, July 9th

You lay in bed a little buzzed from alcohol, snogged in your comfy bed, hugging your pillow.

You arrived home around midnight. 

Hanging with Gabby was fun; you had much catching up to do. 

You are happy you didn't bail on her again, even if you’ll be tired tomorrow. 

Tonight was a good break, a good distraction from this shitty day. 

But then your slightly buzzed mind remembers what you needed a distraction from.

Fucking Kim Taehyung. 

You weren’t the type of girl usually surrounded by hot, cool guys like him. 

You were, and still are, probably, more of the awkward, nerdy type. 

However, your tendency to befriend less introverted people than you led to him becoming part of your circle. 

Not that you ever considered yourself particularly close to him—more accurately, he was a friend of your friends.

Of course, all your friends had a crush on him at some point, both girls and boys alike. But nothing ever really came of it, despite your friends being gorgeous, willing, and not particularly subtle. 

He remained perpetually out of reach, the hot guy they couldn’t have. 

That you couldn’t have.

You never admitted to yourself that you also had a crush on him. 

You’re too realistic for that. Never in a million years did you believe you had a chance, so you simply pushed those thoughts aside.

But that’s not why you’re so flustered seeing him today. 

A specific night comes rushing back to your mind, making you cringe. 

You realize it was also a July night—the July before you all went to college twelve years ago. 

The night you lost your virginity to fucking Kim Taehyung. 

a/n: next chapter, we're going on a little trip to the past...

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